My Prize, My Greatest Prize
by PennyForTheGuy
Summary: The promised companion piece to My Pet. A tiny change in luck and Illidan stands victorious at the foot of Ice Crown. He claims more than just the Lich King's crown and Frostmourne as his rightful prizes. Warning, Mature content


My Prize, My Greatest Prize.

A spilt second's difference, that's all it took. A tiny miscalculation in his swing, and Illidan slipped his thin warglaive in-between Frostmourne and Arthas. Then it didn't matter how powerful the rune blade was; it didn't matter how many souls it had devoured. It didn't matter how thick Arthas's saronite armor was Illidan blade found the open slits like it itself was seeking them out.

Arthas saw it swing go a few millimeteers too wide before Illidan even dodged it. He knew that the demon hunter was too experienced to let this opportunity be wasted. He'd take advantage without even having to think. The pain of the Blade of Azzinoth slicing into his abdomen was excruciating, but deserved. If he could not defeat this half breed, he the Lich King's own champion he deserved to die like this.

Illidan's face was twisted into an arrogant smirk before he even removed the blade. And he didn't remove it till Arthas dropped Frostmourne first.

_Of course, rub it in. You win, I lose._

Only when the warglaive slid out of him again did Arthas finally crash to his knees, then fall face first into the snow. What little blood he had left began to seep from his wound, staining the snow with a red so dark it was almost black. Illidan wrinkled his nose at the stench. Necromantic magic smelled like someone had taken the stomach contents of a dead mule and left it to rot on top of a bloated corpse in the sun.

Illidan's allies gathered around him and fallen death knight. Arthas heard soft foot steps crunching over the snow,

_Kael'thas and his elves, no doubt._

And a few creatures slithering through it.

_Vashj and her Naga. _

"So he has fallen," said a smooth, smug voice, "I have waited long to see this after the destruction he wrought on my homeland."

"I know, Kael'thas," said Illidan, his own voice also smug, "but out work here is not yet done. I will be back presently."

He brought his blade back into a battle stance and took off into the frigid air, and quickly flew to the top of Ice Crown Citadel. The Frozen Throne was there, and even now as he lay slowly dying Arthas could here his master calling for him, futilely.

_**Arthas! Arthas rise! You enemy, my enemy stands before me. He means to destroy me! Arthas, come now! ARTHAS! No half breed! My power is not yours for the taking! Arthas!...**_

Silence, for the first time since he had obtained the rune blade, there was no great voice in his mind, just his own thoughts. Not long after Illidan landed with a dramatic thud, holding the iron crown of the Lich King under his arm.

"Is that?" Vashj asked tentatively.

"Yes," said Illidan, "This holds the spirit of Ner'zul, Gul'dan's master."

"Then why keep it? It must be destroyed immediately." Kael'thas said with a tone of urgency.

Arthas smelled thick smoke as the Prince began to call on a fire spell.

"No Kael'thas, it is not such a simple thing."

Arthas groaned as he felt the last bit of his life energy draining away. Illidan had almost forgotten he was there, but now turned fel fire eyes back on him. Arthas still teemed with the blue glow of necromantic magic but he was clearly close to death. Illidan saw even the magic in him was ebbing away, though it was disappearing far quicker than Arthas's blood. Suddenly he felt quite curious.

He motioned to a Naga tide priestess, and a blood elf priest to come over.

"You two are the most skilled healers we have," he said, "Now, heal him."

Everyone but him stood in stunned amazement. Arthas didn't register Illidan's words, his mind had become too weak and incoherent. Illidan raised an eyebrow.

"Are you disobeying and order from your master?"

"No!" said the blood elf, and the Naga shook her head quickly.

"Then do it."

The healers looked at each other, then bent down and laid their hands on Arthas's back, the tide priestess summoned the soothing power of the waters, and the priest calling on the sacred power of the Light. Presently Arthas felt his mind begin to clear and his pain subside.

_I must be dead now. _

He opened his eyes half expecting to see all the people he slaughtered there to exact their revenge, but instead saw a huge form looming above him, a form with giant leathery wings, curving horns, and glowing demon green eyes.

_I'm alive?_

He touched the spot were his wound should have been. There was a gap in his chain mail and a cut in his shirt, but his flesh was pristine.

_They healed me. Why? Why?_

He realized that he had some how gotten onto his back, but he still felt too weak to move. He heard a clink behind him and turned his head to see a Blood Elf man gingerly picking up Frostmourne, using an extra piece of leather to prevent any direct contact. He carried it as if it were the entrails of a demon and threw it into a large chest, in which Illidan also placed the Lich King's crown.

"I'll experiment on these later." He said, using some sweeping gestures to shut and lock the chest, "and don't any of you try to open this. If you do it will kill you." His many servants nodded; then two Naga Myrimdon picked it up and began to carry it back towards the main force.

"What of him?" Vashj gestured towards Arthas, still lying still in the snow.

"Get him on a wagon, I'm taking him with."

"Whatever for?" she said, genuinely perplexed.

_Yes, what for half-breed?_

"It's never good to leave a well won prize lying around." Illidan said with a smirk.

Arthas's eyes shot open.

_Prize? Prize? I am not a giant jewel, I am not some rare sword. He should have let me die!_

Had he the strength he would have charged Illidan right then and there, but he barely was able to keep his open. Even his anger was brought down by fatigue and blood loss, and he uttered not a whimper as he was lifted onto a stretcher and carried off into the mists of falling snow.

Illidan and his force made their way down Northrend to the southeast coast, reaching the Howling Fjords in a few days. Along the way Arthas was kept in a small wagon being force fed healing potions and iron rich meats. He still wanted to die and his 'caretakers' would have been quite happy to let him starve, but Illidan was adamant that he stay alive and regain strength. At first he was biting the fingers of anyone who tried to feed him, but Illidan came to the wagon and threatened that if he didn't eat without a fuss the demon hunter would chew Arthas's food for him and feed him mouth to mouth.

And the way he said it, like he would have enjoyed such a thing. Naturally Arthas ate without much complaint after that. Not that he was talking to anyone to start with. Once they reached the nearest beach Arthas heard the sounds of creaking ships, and waves beating against their hulls. The whole of Illidan's forces were loaded onto about a dozen Sin'dorei ships and 15 Naga craft. Arthas was placed in the hold of a Elven ship, right next to the chest containing his blade and what was left of his lord.

He felt the keel lurch forward and the ship began to dip and climb gently with the waves as they began the next leg of their journey. Arthas had been very careful to count how many men had come aboard with him. He kept his eyes closed and counted footsteps. Illidan was on board, along with Kael'thas and at least 20 blood elves and just as many Naga.

He opened his eyes and looked towards the chest. He may not be able to open it, but perhaps if Frostmourne could break out if it…

He reached out with a shaky hand and willed his sword to come to him. He felt the rune blade's icy magic touch his fingers. He smiled as he felt its power, its yearning to be reunited with its master.

Arthas stretched his fingers even more, trying to get as close as he could to the chest. Frostmourne rattled with in it, trying to piece through the spell-enhanced wood. The death knight felt tension building within the blade as it continued to beat the boards of the trunk.

_Almost there, just a little harder, drill your way out if you have too._

Frostmourne began to beat on only one side of the chest, concentrating on wearing out one area with its razor sharp point.

From out of nowhere a huge taloned hand gripped Arthas's wrist, so hard he felt like the steel gauntlet was being crushed around his arm. The hand wrenched his up and forced it back down onto his chest. Another hand was laid on the trunk, and a spell of demonic fel power was used to soothe the restless rune blade.

Frostmourne quieted and Arthas felt crushed yet again as Illidan turned to stare him down with those unseeing fel eyes.

"Did you really think you could kill us all, even with Frostmourne in hand?"

Arthas snorted and looked away from him.

"Ah, your thoughts were only of escape, yes you might have managed to jump off the boat with Frostmourne and the crown, but honestly, where could you go but the bottom of the ocean. And how long do you think you would have been beyond my reach, with so many Naga serving beneath me?"

_Damn him, damn him to the Nether he's right. All those Naga would have had no trouble with me, especially in this state._

Arthas said nothing, did not change his expression. Illidan shrugged and turned to go topside again. But before he reached the stairs he paused.

"We sail for the eastern shore of Stranglethorn," he said, "Then we make haste to Blasted Lands, and through the Dark Portal."

Arthas did not move again till heard Illidan clomp back up to the deck.

_The Dark Portal, Out Land. He means to take me to a place where I can find no help, no help at all. As far from Northrend, and the Scourge as possible. What experiments does he have in mind?_

Over the next few weeks Arthas got a taste. Illidan would come to him periodically, during the voyage and during the trek to the Dark Portal, and perform strange magical procedures on him. He kept Arthas weak enough that he couldn't hope to fight, and while he lay helpless Illidan would strip him of his armor; down to his worn silk clothes and run either his hands or odd talismans up and down his body.

Sometimes Arthas felt like Illidan was draining huge amounts of magic from him, while sometimes he seemed to be adding magic. Not the magic he took, this was different. There were a few occasions where he felt the once familiar warmth of Light magic, a few when he felt like he was floating in sea water, but there was no water about him. Mostly he recognized a magic that was dripping with fel taint, but not truly demon magic.

_What is he doing? What is the meaning of all this? Why doesn't he just kill me before I kill him?_

Finally they reached their goal, un-noticed by either Horde or Alliance, and slipped through the wastes of Hellfire Peninsula. Arthas saw the eerie skies of Out Land for the first time from his stretcher. He saw the nearby planets suspended in lines of fel energy traveling endlessly through the great beyond.

They were met soon after by a small force of odd creatures. They had bluish grey skin, and tendrils rather than hair, partial cloven hooves, and only three fingers on their hands. Their faces seemed to be permanently twisted into expressions of utmost grief and anger, with gnarled, savage teeth jutting from their mouths. One of them stepped forward and addressed Illidan.

"My Lord, welcome back to Out Land." It said in a dry, scratchy, weary voice.

"Akama," Illidan said in an almost relieved tone, "I see you have held out well this the garrison I left."

"It has been difficult, Lord Illidan, but we have managed. I am glad to see you back unharmed and victorious."

Akama turned and gestured with one of the pick hammers he held in either hand.

"I have arranged for Twilight drakes to take us and the most important… acquisitions quickly back to the Temple."

"Good, very good."

Illidan turned and addressed the healers and tide priestesses in charge of caring for and watching Arthas.

"Mount him on a drake. Tie him to the saddle if you must."

They nodded and picked him up off his stretcher, one massive Myrimdon holding him up by his arms. They have to tie him to the saddle, though Arthas was strong enough to sit up and with there being almost no wind probably would not have been blown over. He just didn't want to make anything easy for them.

Soon, Illidan's three lieutenants, his 'prize' and a few other elite soldiers were settled on mounts. Illidan himself had no need of a mount, though he was staying close to the drake that carried the chest with the crown and Frostmourne in it's claws. With one signal the drakes took off, and Illidan with them, gliding over the scorched valleys and mountains of Hellfire, heading south over the Nether gap to Shadowmoon Valley.

Arthas had heard of the land which Illidan supposedly stole from the legion itself, but thought he's see when he led his Scourge to conquer what was left of life in this forsaken land. Now here he was Illidan's prisoner.

_His prize. Why am I his prize?_

His long hair waved about his face in the minimal breeze created by the drake's ethereal wings as it made its way across the gap. He noticed something, though the ends of his hair where still blanched, dry, and white, it seemed as if the roots were being to become golden blonde again.

A shock of terror hit him for the first time since being captured.

_Those spells, those experiments, is he…curing undeath? No, no impossible, there is no going back from the Lich King's service._

But as the drake continued to fly he saw his hair, half shining gold half bone white. He dipped his head to his bound hands and felt his face. It till felt slightly chilled but there a distinctive heat coming off his skin, and it felt as if his sunken eyes were filling in again. Arthas lifted his head and turned his eyes on the half elf flying not far away.

_Just what IS he?_

Soon they reached Shadowmoon valley and Arthas saw why illidan chose it as his base of operations. The sky was continuously overcast with black clouds, raining fel fire on the dead, dusty earth. Fel volcanoes bubbled up from deep within the earth spewing sickening green slime everywhere and filling the air with noxious, sulfurous fumes. And of course, demons roamed freely, all possible kinds of Legion servants walked about as if this had always belonged to them. Up on the eastern horizon Arthas saw a great structure looming, it had to be the Temple that Akama had mentioned.

They landed in the grounds of that Temple, and Arthas was struck by it architecture. It was a style he had never seen before, and though blackened by fel fire and stinking of demon taint, the carved symbols and reliefs spoke of a place once devoted to the Holy Light.

Arthas did not have much time to gawk though, as soon as they landed, he was cut from the saddle and half carried; half dragged through the grounds by the same Myrimdon. As they made their way inside, Illidan was greeted and saluted by all, hailed as the "Lord of Out Land."

Kael'thas beamed with pride as he too was greeted by his adoring subjects, and Vashj returned her soldier's and sorceress's salutes with curt nods. At last they reached what seemed to be the center of the Temple, and Arthas thought he might be gutted open in sacrifice as he saw a huge circular altar there.

"My Lord," said a Naga healer, "What are we to do with that?" she pointed to Arthas.

Illidan motioned with his wing, and the healer and Myrimdon followed him up several flights of stairs. It was here Arthas lost sight of the chest containing his weapon, Illidan had entrusted it to some Naga servants and ordered them to take it to some antechamber for temporary storage.

The stairs led up to the highest roof of the Temple, where the demon hunter told them to lay out a carpet and some pillows for his prisoner.

"There's much I wish to do with him."

Arthas gulped involuntarily, and Illidan's green eyes flitted over to him, a sly smile played on his lips. The Naga did just as he asked, and soon left him alone on the roof with his 'prize'.

Arthas lay motionless as Illidan stripped him of his saronite armor.

"This is the last you'll wear this," he said then played with some of the lose threads on his clothes, "and the last time you'll wear these. New ones will be made."

"Oh, enough of this charade let me die!"

Illidan paused, his expression inscrutable. He then smiled, a dangerous smile; like the blade of a knife.

"I'm not going to let you die, not yet." He leaned in, to the point that his nose almost brushed Arthas's, and the only place the human could look was into those burning eyes.

"You are truly insane." Arthas said in a low whisper.

Illidan laughed.

"And what fun it is! Now,"

He pressed a huge hand to Arthas shoulder, so hard he nearly crushed it.

"Stay still for but a moment, let me work."

Illidan then proceeded to use another talisman, running it up and down Arthas's body. Arthas could simultaneously feel necromancy being drawn from him with being replaced with that odd, almost fel magic.

"I made this bauble just for you," Illidan mused, "I designed it to deal with your unique magical make up perfectly."

It took several minutes for the process to finish, and Arthas felt very different once it had. He lifted a hand and grabbed a bit of his hair. It was completely blonde again, not even a hint of white. He reached inward for his Scourge powers and felt nothing. Illidan had truly drained the power of the Lich King right out of him. And he had done it with ease.

Illidan did not move away from him once finished. He placed the talisman on the stone floor, and reached for Arthas's face. He flinched as he saw the great black talons coming toward his skin. Illidan ran his claws over his cheek, oddly, cupped it. He traced just beneath Arthas's eye with the claw on his thumb, and drew and little blood. Arthas could just see a fuzzy red glow on the bottom of his vision, and his eye twitched as he felt the stinging pain so near to it. Illidan smiled once again, Arthas's blood was no longer blackened and filled with the stench of death. It was bright ruby red again and smelled metallic, earthy, and almost sweet.

He lowered his hand to the human's neck and carefully drew his talons over the skin, pressing just enough to break it. More blood seeped out, and Illidan licked his lips. Arthas saw this and became very worried. Before he could protest Illidan lowered his mouth to the wounds and licked the blood from them, relishing the taste of a creature steeped in all kinds of magic and very much alive. He kept gently licking wounds and Arthas squeezed his eyes shut trying desperately to ignore the disgusting sensation.

_This could very possibly be the most humiliating moment of my life._

Finally Illidan stopped and lifted his head, wiping a bit of blood from his lip.

"Your taste is quite enticing, for a human."

His eyes wandered down the rest of Arthas's body.

"As is the rest of you."

Arthas's eyes snapped open and sent Illidan a withering glare.

"And just want do you mean by that, half breed?" he growled.

"Heh." Illidan smiled again, this time a feral, frightening smile. He crouched down like a panther waiting to pounce and returned Arthas's glare tenfold. The next thing Arthas knew Illidan's hand was right between his legs, squeezing his groin.

"Does this answer your question?" Illidan's voice was low, threatening, but also carried a seductive tone.

_He's bluffing, he wouldn't, he just wants to scare me._

Illidan seemed to read Arthas's thoughts, because almost as soon as he thought that he felt another clawed hand being used to shred his silk shirt. Arthas lifted his head and watched as Illidan cut away his worn clothes, first reducing his shirt to mere strips, then his pants. The half elf tossed the shreds aside and ran his hands over Arthas's revealed body.

"Well," he said, "I know you can move. Fight me, fight for your honor."

Arthas didn't give a shit about honor at that point but he was dying to lash out at Illidan for defeating him, keeping him alive, then humiliating him like this. Quick as a flash he jumped up and charged Illidan with his bare hands. The demon hunter caught his wrists with and was barely rocked back by his charge. He smiled as Arthas struggled to free himself from his iron grip.

He wasn't anywhere near strong enough to get free, so he resorted to biting. He gnawed at Illidan's neck and shoulder as hard as he could, but still the half-breed did not let go. He laughed as Arthas continued to struggle in vain, then suddenly let him go. Arthas sat back, panting, already exhausted. He was still weak, and even more so now since he was human again.

He looked around, trying to find and avenue of escape. The ledges seemed to be high; he could throw himself off one and finally have death's embrace again. He tried to said and run but could barely climb to his feet, left alone take a step. Illidan caught him as he toppled forward, stopping him from cracking his head on the stones. While Arthas was still limp in his arms, his lowered his mouth to his neck again, this time sucking and nibbling, leaving a large mark.

Arthas grimaced; he could feel Illidan's fangs digging into his skin. Finished with that, Illidan lifted his head and gingerly turned Arthas over, laying him back down on the pillows.

"Relax, now. Save your strength. I want you to stay healthy, and it won't do if I have to restrain you every time we do this."

Arthas's eyes widened as terror gripped him again to see Illidan's hand roaming down his body, back to his now exposed groin. It lingered there for a moment, then his claws traced over Arthas's tender thighs. Arthas could guess where this was going and did not want to feel what it was like to have a clawed finger inside him.

He twisted his body and tried to wriggle out from under Illidan. He found himself easily dragged back, with his hands now above his head, the wrists being held in one of Illidan's hands. Arthas felt the claw slowly meander down his flesh; and kept trying to wrench his hips away. It did not work. He felt that first invading finger, exploring him almost tenderly. Illidan seemed to be taking great care not to hurt him. Arthas bit his lip, feeling completely violated by this. He felt tears stinging his eyes but refused to let them run down his face.

_Do not give in. Remain strong, stoic. I will not be his little willing whore._

Illidan continued his ministrations, and ran his finger over a point that caused sparks to rocket up and down Arthas's spine.

_What was that?_

Illidan smirked and teased that spot again, eliciting a moan from the human. As soon as he heard that sound escape him Arthas froze in shock. He looked down and saw he was fully aroused. He slowly shook his head and his lip trembled a bit.

"How?"

Illidan's only reply was a mischievous grin as he added another finger. Arthas hissed and threw back his head, any pain he felt was quickly killed off as Illidan worked that spot again. For a few moments Arthas's mind blurred with the sensation and he moaned again, his chest heaving.

He felt Illidan's breath on his skin as the half elf lowered his face closer to his. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

_Do not get lost in this! Do not enjoy this! Fight damn you, FIGHT!_

Arthas opened his mouth bite whatever was closest but Illidan easily dodged. He added yet another finger and Arthas cried out, his back arching. He endured only another few moment before Illidan removed his fingers, the Arthas heard rustling as he undressed himself. He didn't dare open his eyes, and he didn't have a long respite before he felt Illidan's massive body over him again.

"Now this time, relax."

Arthas glared at Illidan through narrowed eyes. Illidan gave him a playful, seductive look in return. Then he felt Illidan push in. He choked back a scream at that first thrust; the half elf was frighteningly large. Illidan remained still and moment, letting his new concubine get used to the sensation. Arthas's face was twisted with pain and anger. He tried desperately to think anything else, to reach for his death knights powers, to call Frostmourne to him. He felt nothing but Illidan's own body buried deep inside his.

Tenderly, Illidan began to move, running over that same sensitive spot, sending new waves of pleasure up Arthas's spine. He felt his skin break out in goosebumps as the pressure in his groin mounted. He groaned, and felt Illidan let go of his wrists to place both hands on Arthas's hips. Arthas clenched the carpet in his fists and bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

Illidan saw the blood and eagerly lapped it up, the excitement causing him to go faster. Arthas grunted and tightened his body. Illidan slowed as Arthas almost became too tight, then reached around to his spine and ran a talon down it. The sensation caused his muscles to spasm, then relax. Illidan continued to trace looping lines over his skin as he pushed.

The pleasure just kept building and building and Arthas once again was temporarily lost in it, arching his back and moaning sweetly. As Illidan picked up his pace Arthas came back to himself. He saw Illidan kneeling over him, his swirling fel tattoos glowing over his taut muscles, his curving horns dipped so low they almost brushed Arthas's shoulders. His obsidian black hair tickled his stomach every thrust, and his wings created a huge shadow around them. Illidan's eyes were squeezed shut, but he soon opened them and saw Arthas staring at him with a flabbergasted look.

"You like what you see here, my prize?" he asked with an arrogant smile.

Arthas turned his head away and stopped moving.

_I'm enjoying this, I like this. What a fate, from Prince of Lordearon to Champion of the Scourge to the Lord of Out Land's favorite piece of ass._

Illidan scooped up Arthas's sweaty body and forced him down, driving himself even deeper. Arthas could feel the demon hunter's heart through his thick chest, could smell the dirt of Shadowmoon Valley in his hair and magic mixed with sweat his skin. Illidan kept fucking him, driving faster and harder until Arthas felt a shudder pass through his muscles and a wave of euphoric pleasure hit him. He's gotten his release, and Illidan wasn't far behind him.

Sated, Illidan leaned over and let Arthas slip back onto the carpet, slid out of him, then re-dressed himself. Arthas lay defeated once again, this time naked and on top of the Black Temple. Illidan burned the scraps of his clothes in one of the raging braziers, and ordered the nearest guards to bring new ones, which where promptly delivered.

Arthas raised not a finger as Illidan dressed him in fine purple silk, and sulked among the pillows as Illidan explained that he would have private quarters among the other concubines in the Den of Pleasures.

"I however, will be the only that visits you."

Arthas did not react, and Illidan didn't seem to care. A Blood Elf sorcerer came running onto the roof.

"My Lord, the chamber is prepared, shall we begin our experiments on the Lich King's crown?"

"Yes, I will arrive presently."

The elf bowed and went back down the stairs. Illidan looked back to Arthas.

"Now time to work with my other prize."

He stood up and Arthas listened to his great hooves clomp down the stone steps.

Arthas opened his sapphire blue eyes and stared towards the door he had left through.

"Unless I was must mistaken I saw Alliance and Horde camps being set up when we flew here. Your not long for this world Illidan, when you finally fall, I'll be there to reclaim what is mine!"


End file.
